


anyway, here's wonderwall

by canticle



Series: Pegoryu Week 2018 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Oblivious, Pining, minimal-guts akira lmfao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canticle/pseuds/canticle
Summary: That’s okay, though. Ryuji doesn’tneedanything besides his friendship. As long as he can be beside Akira, helping him, supporting him, he’ll be happy for that.But he can’t help but yearn, a little wistfully.





	anyway, here's wonderwall

**Author's Note:**

> _There are many things that I_  
>  _Would like to say to you but I don't know how_  
>  _Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me_  
>  _-wonderwall,_ oasis

He doesn’t realize it himself until months have passed, and by then it’s too late. He’s in way too deep.

 

Ryuji’s never been the most introspective person; it shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does that he’s been head-over-heels for Kurusu Akira for nearly as long as he’s known him. It’s been less than half a year, but it feels like forever. They’ve gone through things together almost no other people on earth could even comprehend! Even he still barely understands!

Even if they hadn’t, Ryuji thinks, he still probably would have been gone over Akira in no time at all. There’s just something about him— the secret spark of humor, the way he tries to pretend he’s a mannequin around people he doesn’t know well, the way he opens up like a flower in the rain at the slightest hint of belief and affection, the way he fusses and cares over the people he’s decided are his.

There’s never been any hope for him when it comes to Akira, though.

For all his virtues, he’s oblivious as a brick wall.

Ryuji’s done everything he can think of to show his affection bar sitting on his lap and kissing the living daylights out of him, and Akira’s never picked up on a single bit of it, even with Ann audibly gagging in the background of his latest attempt. He’s flirted lowkey and highkey, sat slouched with his knee pressed into Akira’s thighs for hours, slung his arm around Akira’s shoulder too many times to count; he’s stared longingly across hallways and battlegrounds, the rooftop at school and the diner in Shibuya, the arcade and the attic, and he never looks.

That’s okay, though. Ryuji doesn’t  _ need _ anything besides his friendship. As long as he can be beside Akira, helping him, supporting him, he’ll be happy for that.

But he can’t help but yearn, a little wistfully.

A lot wistfully, after the events of Christmas and the new year, slaying a god and saving a world, sending his best friend off to prison with no goodbye and fighting tooth and nail to get him back. He’s been staring in besotted contentment at Akira’s face all afternoon, he knows he has, even with Ann and Futaba elbowing him in the ribs. He can’t stop. He’s just...so  _ happy  _ he’s back _. _

And when Akira grabs his sleeve and asks him to stay back in an undertone while the others file out, Ryuji is  _ immediately _ invested. Not just because it’s Akira, his best and closest friend, the guy he’s pretty sure he’s in love with, but because Akira looks so  _ shifty _ about it.

He won’t meet Ryuji’s eyes. His fingers curl in the cuffs of his hoodie, pulled over his blazer against the chill. This is an Akira Ryuji’s  _ never _ seen before, and he’s cute as  _ hell _ .

Not that Akira isn’t always cute as hell, but there’s something about Akira showing this vulnerability to him that makes his heart hurt in fifteen different ways, most of them good. He keeps his seat in the booth as everyone (Boss and Mona included) head out the door. Akira locks it before any of them can turn around and ask questions. It’s very shifty. Ryuji is doubly intrigued now.

Every line of his body screams out  _ stress _ and  _ anxiety _ as he turns back towards Ryuji; he hesitates by the barstools, then heads behind the counter to fix up another cup of coffee. “You sure you want that?” Ryuji can’t help but ask, pulling himself into one of the seats. “You’re already lookin’ pretty jittery, and you’ve had a long day. Don’t wanna be over-caffeinated while you’re tryin’ to sleep, do you?”

“You’re right,” Akira says, but he doesn’t look up and he doesn’t stop making the coffee. His hands move more slowly than Ryuji remembers, like he’s trying to recreate the motions from an imperfect memory. It’s a sequence Ryuji knows to the bottom of his heart by now. Pull the top off the french press, put a big spoonful of coffee in there (it smells like Akira’s favorite blend, heady and aromatic, and Ryuji inhales appreciatively), add the hot water—

“Wait, hold on,” he says, and puts a hand on Akira’s wrist before he pours. “Give it a moment, y’don’t want it too close to boiling when it goes in. It’ll scald the coffee,” he adds, feeling sheepish at Akira’s startled look. “Then it tastes more bitter. You always say it’s one of the most important things to remember.”

“That’s right,” Akira says slowly. “But why do  _ you _ remember?”

“I just said! It’s important.”

“You don’t drink coffee, though. You don’t even like it.”

“But you do,” Ryuji says like it’s obvious. (It’s really, really obvious.) “You don’t like that bitter little undertone, not even in the coffees Boss says’re supposed to have it. You get that dumb li’l wrinkle in your nose.” It’s cute, but Akira doesn’t need to hear that right now.

Especially now that his hands are starting to shake, just a little bit. Ryuji grabs the handle and helps him lower it to the counter, lingering just a bare second longer than he needs to with their fingers overlapping. It’s selfish, but...it’s been so long. He wants to be selfish, just for a little while longer. “Dude, are you alright?”

“Fine.” His voice is quiet, almost too quiet; his hands ball back up into the cuffs of his sweatshirt.

“Y’know you’re gonna stretch those all out.”

“‘S fine.” He stiffens just a bit when Ryuji grabs a wrist with both hands, gently unfolding his fingers from where they grip too tightly. 

It’s too much, he’s doing too much, but he can’t just sit here while Akira frets himself to pieces over something, it goes against every ingrained fiber of his being. “Come sit down,” he coaxes, holding his arm loosely. “You’ve gotta be tired.”

Akira makes a noise of assent. He still won’t look directly at Ryuji; his brows are furrowed, his lips pinched like he’s biting the inside of his cheek. Ryuji tugs just a bit, very gently, waggling his eyebrows in a move that never fails to get a grin.

Eventually he does move out from behind the counter, and they take their places back at the booth, across from each other. Their feet meet under the table as they shift around to get comfy; Ryuji teasingly traps the toe of Akira’s boot with both of his own. Akira swallows heavily.

He’s so  _ fidgety. _

Fingers worrying the cuffs of his hoodie, tweaking his hair, pressing his glasses further up his face like he’s trying to don a mask. He tries to wiggle his foot free, and Ryuji reluctantly lets him, but taps his toe against the top of Akira’s just one more time. “I...guess you’re wondering why I asked you to stay,” he finally says, looking by all means like he’s heading for the firing line.

Ryuji doesn’t  _ understand _ . Is there something wrong between them for Akira to act like this? Did he do something wrong or say something off before Akira got carted off to prison?

Is this about his damn crush, and how obvious he’s been all along?

Is this the moment their friendship is about to end?

….Nah. Akira wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble just to friend-break-up with him. It’s gotta be somethin’ important, somethin’ sensitive. Somethin’ embarrassing, maybe.

“Ryuji,” Akira says, and his voice waves just a little on the first syllable. He’s quiet, more unsure than Ryuji’s ever seen him before, even in those first few minutes that they’d met.

Is….

Is he  _ blushing? _

“I, um...just...I was thinking a lot, while I was away, and…”

“Sounds like you didn’t make much progress,” Ryuji can’t help but tease, and Akira’s annoyed expression shows even through the blush. It’s cute as  _ hell _ . He’s sure he’s making some sort of face as he leans over the table to grin, but he can’t  _ help  _ himself. Akira huffs and turns away, just a bit. The tips of his ears are turning red. Ryuji would  _ maim something  _  to know what’s going on in his head right now.

“Just— just let me get through this, alright?!” His voice is insistent, at odds with his demeanor and the way he’s shoving his glasses up his nose like he wants to superglue them there.

“Alright, alright. Don’t let me stop y—”

“Do-you-want-to-do-something-tomorrow,” Akira blurts, cutting Ryuji off completely.

There’s a long moment of silence. Akira’s shoulders tense; Ryuji doesn’t get why. He gets the sense that he’s missing something huge. “Hell yeah, dude, of course,” he says immediately, sliding forward to rest his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table. “Anything.”

“No, like…” He lets his breath hiss out, scrubs his hands through his hair, clearly flustered. It’s delightful. It’s adorable, and then he finally meets Ryuji’s eyes, all messy hair and wobbly mouth and determined. “Like a thing. For Valentine’s Day.”

Ryuji’s jaw drops.

Is he...is this for real? Is he hallucinating? Did Kurusu goddamn Akira just ask him out on a date? 

“Yes,” Akira says with notes of real strain in his voice, “I did, and— if I— misread, or, um...maybe I was getting mixed signals, but— I was thinking a lot, I had a lot of time to think, and I thought— maybe— but, if you don’t want to, you can— we can forget this happened—”

_ Hell  _ no. “ _ Hell _ yes!” Ryuji all but shouts, flinging himself to his feet with the sheer adrenaline that courses through him. “Dude!  _ Yes! _ ”

“ _ Oh _ ,” Akira says weakly, and sags like a marionette whose strings have been cut. “Oh….good. Cool.”

“Yes! Cool! Good!” Ryuji agrees. He can’t stop grinning, can’t stop angling himself to see more of Akira’s face; he wants to crawl over the booth table and squeeze him, he wants to run all the way to Shibuya and back screaming, he wants to go upstairs and make Akira take a nap (and maybe stay with him?? If he’s allowed??)

He pinches himself, just to make sure this is really happening. And then again, in case he imagined the first one. And then once more for luck, because immediately after he climbs completely over the table and sweeps Akira up into a hug.

It might be a bad move— Akira immediately tenses, his shoulders stiffening, and Ryuji just as immediately pulls back. “Shit, shit, sorry—” he blurts guiltily, but before he can scoot back Akira’s hand shoots out and fists in his hoodie. “I, uh—”

“It’s okay,” Akira says. He sounds a little hoarse, and he won’t meet Ryuji’s eyes, even when Ryuji ducks his head down into his line of sight. “Um… Can you…”

God damn, but Kurusu Akira with his nerves failing him is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “Can I what, dude?” he breathes, so endlessly thrilled with how everything’s unfolding. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, will you tell me what you want? Will you tell me if somethin’ I do isn’t okay?”

“Everything you do is okay,” Akira mumbles. Ryuji couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on his face if someone had slapped him then and there. “I just...no one’s hugged me like that in a long time. It startled me.”

“Can I— can I do it again? That was a shitty hug, I can give you a better one— Akira. Akira, if you let me I can give you  _ so many hugs—” _ He knows he’s babbling, he knows he’s leaning just a little too far into Akira’s personal space, but he’s not leaning away and he’s not shoving him back and he’s not telling him no again, with words or body language. His hand is still twisted tight into Ryuji’s sleeve.

And then he nods, short and sharp, and Ryuji lets out a breath that turns into a quiet laugh at the end. “Okay, okay okay okay, first of all— c’mere. We gotta get outta this booth.” He coaxes Akira to the end of the seat and then out till they’re standing. “Put your arms out— yeah, like that.” 

He telegraphs his movements, watches Akira closely as he wraps one arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist. Akira’s eyes hood, then fall completely shut when Ryuji pulls him into him. “Now you just put your arms wherever you wanna,” he says, then can’t help but add “or if you wanna stand there like a dead fish that’s fine too—”

“I know how to give a hug, Ryuji,” Akira mutters, but it’s a few seconds before his arms sneak inside Ryuji’s hoodie to wrap up around him as well. 

It’s so nice.  _ So  _ nice. Ryuji never thought he’d get even a hint of this, but— Akira fell into this all of his own volition. Akira asked him on a  _ date _ . He— he might even get to be  _ boyfriends  _ with him.

“I missed you  _ so much, _ dude,” Ryuji whispers into Akira’s hair. Akira squeezes him tight around the waist in response, tight enough that he huffs. “You gonna squeeze the life outta me so we don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow? Huh?”

He doesn’t answer, which is fair, but he also doesn’t let go. Ryuji’s happy enough with that.

**Author's Note:**

> don't @ me re this title i'm so fucking tired lmao


End file.
